Tales of the Amalgam'verse: Tiptree
by Tarbtano
Summary: Dr. Jane Diane Tiptree. First recorded hybrid of a Mysterian Xilian and human. Genetics prodigy, creator of numerous retrovirus cures and John Hammond's original first pick for Jurassic Park... And the engineer behind Dinocroc, the Carnosaurs, and numerous other horrors. Discovered working at Jericho Genetics under a false identity, bringing her in shouldn't be much of a problem...


**September 4th, 2004**

_A beast was running amok. A horrific splicing of dinosaur and crocodilian, fittingly called the Dinocroc by the news had 'escaped' from its birthplace in Jericho Genetic Inc's Texas facility. The death count was already in the double digits. Tracing suspicions to its origin, including illegal use of dinosaur DNA after InGen's Gene Guard Act, Jericho was put to task and the capture of Dr. Catherine Viciy, creator of the beast, was made a priority... _

Dr. Catherine Viciy, a tall woman with medium brown hair bundled into a bun straightened up as the sound of several boots thundered into her laboratory, deep in Jericho's basement. One of them shouted something.

'Hands in the air'

'Freeze'

'You're under arrest'

Honestly she didn't care in the slightest. They were probably here to take her in over her latest beastie she'd unleashed on the world. Last she heard, Dinocroc had chewed his way through a lakeside beach and it was all over the news. She had just finished logging it and some other data to send on a secure line over to MARS.

"Dr. Catherine Viciy, Jericho Security. We have permission from the law to take you in, come quietly please."

One of the mooks shouted and Catherine wanted to sigh. At least it was new, if only by factor Jericho was idiotic enough to think private security would work.

Laws. Subjective as far as she was concerned. A herd of deer make it a rule to herd together, graze together, and migrate together out of instinct, but that all hardly mattered to the wolf. Just as the laws of the wolf pack were of no application to the tiger. And so on, and so on, and so on. The laws of man were no different, a war could be declared without the will of a weaker nation thrown into the conflict and millions died by the whim of someone higher up on the food chain. The world only made sense as long as you were willing to force it to, and the stronger could force it far more than the weak could.

Disunion came when those lower on the chain attempted to enslave their betters. The deer enslaving the wolves, becoming prideful of their might, until the forest system crashed and they all perished.

And with little exception, humanity was on a far lower station on the food chain than herself.

Dr. Catherine Viciy removed her glasses as the lights were abruptly shut off, briefly dazzling those who had come to arrest her. The locks of her hair fell free, darkening to an unnatural black as her skin contracted and paled to an ashy gray.

Some of the Jericho security, armed in kevlar vests, helmets, and rifles were clearly prepared for the worst.

The worst a human could do, perhaps.

The opened fire when something slammed into them. Bullets flew and pinged off the floor and walls, partially shredding the blackstone table that had been thrown into them. Muzzle fire was the only light in the room, illuminating the remnants of the table as it slammed into several of them and smashed the operators against the wall with such force they were likely already dead when ichors spattered over their comrade.

An ash-gray hand with black veins running up the arm grabbed one of the surviving three security personnel and wrenched them away from the flashes of light by their companions.

Eric Reiner, a SWAT applicant dropout who still wanted to do some good in the world, yelped and thrashed to fight back. His fist hit a hardened gut that offered no give. Like python, the gray arm snatched out and wrapped around his throat. He fell over with a weight beside and atop him, desperately grabbing at the arm to try and wrench it free as his head began to be twisted aside.

"AH! AHR NO NO! NO PLEASE-"

The wet crack sent a chill down his two companions spines as wisely moved to get back to back and make for the door. The backtracking and firing at the shade, the small comfort came at the sound of bullets hitting flesh.

It was quickly dashed when, after scrambling out the door, they glimpsed a gray hand in the light streaming in from the hall flicking out and throwing Eric's now bullet-ridden body, tissue and kevlar used as a shield, into the hallway after them. Red streaks across the floor as the broken heap sloshed against the wall across from them.

Head of security, a powerful man by the name of Brody Klein, a Desert Storm veteran, grabbed the door handle and glimpsed eyeshine glaring back at him from the darkness. Brody was no newcomer to death, but he was also no newcomer to a bad situation. And he and the rookie had just walked into a 1-Woman killzone.

Slamming the door shut, he shoved the rookie's back to get her going and charged down the hall as fast as he could.

"Leg it! We're outgunned!"

Brody and his comrade quickly bolted through the maze of halls and tile floor, boots pounding and squeaking at every twist and turn. A horrendous crash sounded off through the walls, and it was only by experience with breaching operations Brody knew it as the sound of doors being smashed off their hinges. Only usually it took several operators and a ram to rupture a metal frame, and he didn't see any of either in the interior interconnected labs.

Which meant someone very inhuman was chasing them on the other side of the walls. Brody brought up his rifle and opened fire on the drywall to his flank. Penetrating the wall would slow the bullets down to a point, but it was better than nothing. If he could just slow that witch down to let them escape.

Drywall, shards of plastic, and sparks flew. Amidst the debris flying and roar of his rifle, Brody listened for a shout, a yell, anything to indicate he scored a hit.

A thousand variables flew through his mind. How many rounds left in the magazine, how many times he could pull the trigger for the burst fire before going empty, how far to the end of the hall, his current position between the rookie and the demoness on the other side of the wall.

His eyes instantly trained upon something that made his blood cold.

Several meters ahead was a door that would lead into the laboratory. An exit for the monster. Spinning around with his gun trained on the door, Brody sprinted towards the door while clicking the setting on his rifle to fully automated. Moment he saw the bitch, he was going to full-auto her till she was a corpse and keep shooting. Yanking out his magazine for a fresh one, Brody shoved the rookie ahead.

"Get moving!" He roared.

Either she'd come rushing out the door to try and get at the newbie and he could gun her down or he was pushing his companion to safety. Either way he'd-

… Forgotten their attacker was smarter than he was as much as she was stronger.

And not human.

A fist burst through the wall well away from the doorway and grabbed Brody's arm.

The world seemed to freeze, then proceed by spans of milliseconds. It only meant Jericho's security head experienced it for longer. With a vice-like squeeze, the gray fingers crushed his arm with a wet crackle that signaled shattered wrist bones. Tremors and tingles shot up and down his arm as his jaw dropped.

He screamed out something. He wasn't sure what. The rookie was half turned in her retreating sprint, eyes widening. Brody looked into them for a moment before a tremendous force wrenched him towards the wall.

Talia didn't sign up for this. She wanted to be a biologist, wanted to go to get a degree. But living in the backwoods of east Texas and having skills ranging from gun cleaning and car repair wasn't exactly high class university crop. An internship at Jericho seemed like her best in, even if it was security and not anything lab related. Still, it got her some ins, some books to read by the RnD teams, small job or two in the specimens room, and a lot of drinking buddies in the security detail.

And she'd just seen all her friends but one die. It all happened so far it was only now beginning to register when she looked into Chief Klein's shocked eyes.

They were face to face for a brief moment before he was pulled towards the wall by that wretched, gray claw hooking him in. The sound his shoulder made when it slammed into the surface was unforgettable.

Brody, someone she always seen so calm and cool under pressure, was shouting in agony from a burst joint. He swore, he growled, he fired at the wall but his shots flew wildly and briefly forced Talia back.

But when he was momentarily freed only to get wrenched in even harder, the compulse overpowered hesitance.

"LET 'IM GO!" She roared, rushing forward and grabbing Brody's free arm while shoving her rifle into the wall and yanking back the trigger.

She just kept screaming that line over and over again, the world going mad while the muzzle fire all but deafened her. Brody was in a full panic, both trying to kick her away and shoot through the wall himself; while getting constantly bashed and pulled into it. And the monster beyond it, one with the strength of five men or more, refused to give.

The deafened ring in her perception was finally broken by a shock traveling up her leg.

Whether by Brody's flailing, her own efforts to try and pull him free, or a combination of both of their thrashing; one shot had flown very wild. And blood was seeping out of her now crumbling leg. Talia crumbled to the ground, a bullet having shattered her knee.

But just as the pain started to register, something else brought sensation. A wetness on her face after Brody was yanked into the hole in the wall again.

With some force his head had been caught on the wall and bashed to the side, red leaking from a shattered jaw.

Talia's eyes met Brody's, one of them letting out a wet gasp.

There was a shattering of bone and squishing of sinew and muscle. Body's body crumbled like crinkling paper as his attacking violently yanked him through a hole too small to fit.

Talia fell to the ground, one of her legs limp and bleeding.

There was a hope. Some distant prayer that muzzle fire would signal the monster slain. Some distant sign Brody was still alive.

Instead, there were footsteps. Calm, steady, simple footsteps audible through the hole in the wall. She knew who'd it be even before the door up ahead fully opened. Bullets tore through the drywall and shattered the glass.

She squeezed the trigger again to fire another burst of three rounds, staggering onto her good leg and free arm to limp up to her feet. Clawing a hand across the wall, she crawled her way away from the wall while pointing the gun back. The door squeaked, almost fully opened. A half second later she fired again, taking a step and dragging her limp foot across the ground.

She fired, she limped, she bled.

She fired, she limped, she bled.

She fired, she limped, she bled.

She-...

The gun clicked, empty.

Talia finally took a breath, panting a wincing while trying to draw another clip. But the moment she took her arm off the wall, all sense of balance was lost and she was sent into a vertigo, sight and sound losing all sense for precious moments.

And when they returned, it returned to the sound of footsteps and a blur slowly advancing towards her.

It barely looked like a woman. More an ungodly aberration forced into the shape of one. Pure black eyes, soulless and ringed with visible veins like the etching of evil runes, stared back behind the frayed ebony bangs. The labcoat had lost almost all semblance of white upon it, dirtied by drywall, and red… so.. Much.. red.

It was carrying something in its hand. It took Talia's subconscious mind a few moments to realize it was Brody's rifle before it was bent in two by clenching fingers. It was cast aside with obvious disgust.

It stepped forward and Talia clawed across the floor to try and gain any scrap of ground between them.

She clawed, crawled, and dragged. Her pursuer merely walked.

Talia blocked as much of it out as she could. Her leg, her friends, the pain. Just turning about to look at the end of the hall and putting all her body to the task of getting her there. It was so foolish to a rational mind, but the instinctive focused merely on survival. For another day, another hour, another second.

There were footsteps at the end of the hall, coming back to her still gun-shot rung ears.

Talia's eyes widened and her pace increased, mind alight with possibilities.

Others were coming.

More security forces? A SWAT team? She'd settle for anyone from the Green Berets to a janitor. She just had to get to them so they could get to her.

Ten meters away now.

She crawled and dragged herself, scrambling now and leaving red trails across the floor.

Six meters to go.

The presence behind her was drawing in closer. In no hurry as she was rushing for her life.

Three meters left.

The footsteps… Talia's subconscious perked at a detail.

Two meters away.

Uncertainty was inflamed but smothered.

One meter.

Her hands clawed at the door and grabbed for the handle as her blood pooled out from her leg.

The footstep became a small, sticky splash. In the reflection of the smooth metal door, she could see a shoe standing in a dark puddle.

She had been alone in a hall with a monster, and had just scrambled for her life chasing after echoes. Talia's hands went limp, sliding off the door. Between the realization that no help was coming and the blood loss, her strength had failed her.

She was turned over and picked up by the shoulder with such ease.

The last of the security detail looked upon a face that had once happily helped her through a textbook chapter after bringing her some cold storage samples for the genetics lab, let her sit with her for lunch while working out college plans, and greeted her each and every night they both checked in on the progress of the Dinocroc.

The only problem was, the woman Talia almost saw like a mentor never existed. Dr. Catherine Viciy didn't look back at the teary eyes of the security guard.

The black eyes of Dr. Jane Tiptree were all that was there, or ever had been.

"You... shot... me," a disconcertingly calm voice whispered.

Talia glimpsed a bleeding, ragged wound on Tiptree's gut, ichors spilling out. The maw below the dark lips and inhuman markings curled into a snarl like a monstrous predator. Tiptree reached out, pulling up Talia's discarded rifle, hefting it. She cocked back an arm and Talia closed her eyes.

The glass on the other side of the door shattered from a red stained gun barrel bursting through the window.

Tiptree rolled her eyes, gripping the door handle and prying it off its jammed hinge, totally unfazed at the dead body dangling off it. Stepping off into the hallway, the Mysterian hybrid calmly made her way down several halls leading towards the exit.

"Winters, get a transport ready. I'm on my way out."

A fizzled voice came through the earpiece the monster bore, "Cameron here, how many this time Jane?"

"Half a dozen. Have the bodies shot and place torched."

"Aww, no mementos from the old workplace?"

Tiptree paused as she passed by the mess hall, glancing over at an ever-running television. An effort to slay Dinocroc had failed, it was last seen moving off towards the Gulf of Mexico. And one beast across an ocean, with the GDF devoting most of its resources to fighting kaiju and fending off gyaos hordes, they'd lost their chance to kill it.

"I have mine. Have Dodgson and his crews use my credentials to release the others."

"Oh? This'll boost MARS' weapons sales for sure. How many of your newest offerings we turning loose? The pythons? The sharks? The blood orchid anacondas? How about the crocs up near Lake Placid?"

Tiptree observed the footage of Dinocroc, the Theropod-Crocodilian splice bashing its way into a boat with such force it was left in splinters and shrapnel. A mental map of the United States verified there were dozens of locations, dozens of places a false identity created a monster.

Time for the deer to remember what the wolves were.

"All of them."

**Part 2 in: Tales of the Amalgam'verse - Endangered Species**


End file.
